


The Perfect Gift

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gingerbread House, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: For their second anniversary, Ringo wants to get George something unique, something memorable. Which is how he ends up buying him a gingerbread house. Hopefully it's not a mistake.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	The Perfect Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufusrant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufusrant/gifts).



> A belated Christmas gift for the lovely rufusrant!! Thank you for being the best friend in the worldddddd <3 <3 (And for coming up with a title for your own gift ahaha, I don't know what I'd do without you XD Seriously though <3)
> 
> Also, honeyheffron posted a [Starrison gingerbread house fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28446822) recently too and it's LOVELY, go read it!!

Ringo rested his elbow on the table as he scrolled through the store’s website on his phone. He had to make sure it was in stock. Tonight had to be perfect.

“Soooo,” John drawled, leaning over the table and sticking his nose in Ringo’s face. So much for a perfect night. “Today’s the big anniversary, eh? Two years.”

“Yeah.” Ringo slid his phone to the side and kept scrolling.

“Got any big plans?” John waggled his eyebrows.

Sighing, Ringo didn’t take the bait. “None that _you’re_ invited to.”

John whistled. He nodded to Ringo’s phone. “Have you got George’s nudes on there?”

Eyes wide, Ringo locked his phone and slammed it down. “Jesus, _no_.”

“Then why’re you staring at it so hard?”

“I’m shopping for tonight.” Under his breath, he muttered, “pervert.”

“Kinky,” John said. “Don’t worry, I won’t intrude on your little party. You two have all the delicious fun your little hearts desire.”

For reasons John didn’t understand, Ringo laughed. “Don’t worry, we will.”

When their coffee orders were finally ready, Ringo and John left the shop. A few minutes later they parted ways so Ringo could head to the store, ignoring the dirty jokes John called after him.

Ringo took a sip of his coffee and let the warmth snuff out the winter chill that had settled inside him. Then he thought about what he was about to buy for George and he might as well have had the entire sun glowing inside of him and bursting out through his smile. As he grabbed his gift from the shelf and carried it to the register, he couldn’t stop dreaming of how lovely it would be.

* * *

When George finally arrived home later, Ringo had to resist the urge to shove his gift into his face. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him and kissed him gently. “Happy anniversary, love,” Ringo whispered against George’s lips.

“Very happy indeed,” George hummed as he gazed at Ringo’s smiling face. “I was hoping I’d beat you home. I was gonna surprise you with dinner.”

“Then I’m glad I was first,” Ringo said. “When you see what I have for you, you’ll be too excited to eat.”

George’s smile wavered, then steadied. “And…what would that be?”

“Wait here,” Ringo said, ushering George into a chair at the table. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He rushed off to grab his gift, then plopped the large box on the table in front of George, beaming all the while. “Go ahead.”

George tugged off the ribbon and tore the wrapping paper. He cocked his head quizzically. “A gingerbread house kit?”

“I thought we could spend the night building it together,” Ringo said, smiling warmly.

But George leaned to the side to look for something behind Ringo. “So, it’s just the gingerbread house? There’s no secret second part to the gift?”

Now Ringo was getting worried. Was there something wrong with his gift? Fuck, this was a shit gift, wasn’t it? They’d been together for two whole years, and all Ringo had bought him was a _gingerbread house_. “I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “I should have gotten more. I’ll buy you something else tomorrow, I promise—”

George cut him off with a kiss. “It’s perfect. Much more personal than any of those cliché gifts. Now we can make memories instead of just having something pretty to look at.”

“Exactly!” Ringo yelled. Thank god they were on the same page. For a moment, he was terrified that he didn’t know George at all. 

“So,” George said, picking at the tape on the box, “you ever made one before?”

“Nope.”

George grinned. “Me neither.”

They tore into the box, and Ringo pulled out several bags of rainbow-colored treats. “Hopefully this isn’t a disaster.”

Shrugging, George grabbed the bag of icing. “Even if it is, it’ll still be damn delicious.”

With Ringo holding the walls in place and George “gluing” them together, they slowly but surely got the basic structure to stand. Ringo inspected the edges. “Hey, love?” He slid his hand over George’s hip. “Add a bit more icing to the roof? Don’t want it to collapse.”

“Mmph.”

Ringo looked up to see George squeezing some of the icing from the bag into his mouth. He sighed. “If this doesn’t hold together, don’t you dare blame me.”

Blushing, George wiped his mouth with his sleeve. A dab of icing smeared onto his cheek.

“You trying to decorate yourself?” Ringo teased as he wiped it off with his thumb.

“Maybe. I think I’d make a handsome gingerbread man.”

“That you would.” Before Ringo could clean the icing off his hand, George caught his wrist. “What?”

George tugged Ringo’s frosting-covered thumb toward his lips and gave him a pleading look.

“…You’re not honestly gonna eat that off my fingers, are you?—oh, geez.”

George laughed as he slid his tongue over his thumb. “Can’t let it go to waste,” he said, licking his lips.

“Right. Sure.” Ringo was sure his cheeks were red, and the way George winked at him didn’t help.

Thankfully, the house hadn’t imploded—yet—so they got to work on the really fun part. Ringo opened the bag of tiny colorful spheres. He tried to arrange them on the table before gluing them on, but the candies rolled all over, some plummeting to the floor. “Shit.”

“Careful,” George said as he knelt to pick up the runaways. He brushed them off and returned them to the table. “What’re you planning with these?”

Ringo explained his alternating squiggly rows of icing and candy for the roof while George rested his head on his shoulder and hugged him from behind. “…Unless you have a better idea,” Ringo finished.

George kissed his cheek. “I love it. Let’s do it.”

The icing turned out to be much more difficult to manage than Ringo expected, and it kept smudging down the side where Ringo didn’t want it to be. “How the hell did you do this so easily?” he muttered.

“Luck?”

“Or you’re a real gingerbread man in disguise.”

“Damn.” George crossed his arms and smirked. “My cover is blown.”

Another candy slipped from the roof and left an icing dent in its place. “I’ll keep the police off your arse if you help me.”

“Deal.”

One way or another, George convinced the candy to behave, and the roof actually turned out pretty nice—if Ringo squinted at it hard enough. “Wanna do the front?” George asked, offering him the icing.

“And turn this into a haunted house? No thanks.”

“You’re not _that_ bad.”

Ringo pulled out his phone. “I’ll just take pictures while you work.”

“Oh, god.” George winced and covered his face. “That’s so much worse.”

“I won’t post them. These are just for me.” Like George said, they had to make those memories.

George got to work adding some peppermint windows and a candy cane-framed door while Ringo snapped away. He took photos of the house with George’s hands and photos of the clusterfuck of the roof. He also attempted an artsy shot of the scattered supplies and half empty candy bags.

But the best shots by far were the ones of George. He took a couple of George shyly glancing at him and stifling a nervous giggle, and he almost set one as his lock screen. Then he captured one of George hard at work, his fingers delicately placing a gumdrop and his bottom lip caught loosely between his teeth.

That one would have to be his lock screen for at least a year.

Half an hour later, they set down the remaining candies and leaned back. “How’d we do?” George asked.

The roof still looked sloppy and a few mints had fallen from the walls, but Ringo thought it looked beautiful. “We did fabulous.”

“All thanks to your marvelous gift-giving skills.” George pecked him on the forehead and stood up. “Gonna wash my hands.”

Ringo waited for him to walk to the kitchen sink, but he headed down the hall instead. “Wash your hands, or lick them clean? I know your game, Harrison,” he called after him. But George didn’t respond. Smiling to himself, Ringo started tidying up.

George returned a moment later. “Someone’s in a hurry to clean up,” he said.

“Wanna make room for that dinner you said you’re making.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time for that,” George said with a laugh. “I was hoping to start cooking much earlier than this.”

Ringo fake scoffed. “Wow, George. I’m disappointed in you.” He turned away to wash his own hands. “Didn’t think you’d slack off so much on our anniversary gift.”

A shaky breath came from behind him. “That’s not your main gift.”

“Ooh.” Ringo shut off the tap and grabbed the towel. “Then what is it?”

A chair creaked, but George didn’t answer.

“George? This better be good. I’m not expecting gingerbread house level of good, but—”

Ringo gasped. The towel fell to the floor.

George’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t look Ringo in the eyes. But there he was, down on one knee, ring in his hands. “Ritchie, I—I love you more than anyone and anything else. You make me happier than I’ve ever been—”

“Oh my god, I’m the worst boyfriend in the world.”

Eyes filled with terror, George pulled the ring back. “Wait. You…you don’t…”

“A fucking _gingerbread house?_ What the fuck was I thinking? You deserve so much more than that. And now you—” Ringo’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

George’s face turned the worst kind of red. “So,” he whispered. “…Is that a no?”

“WHAT?” Ringo dropped onto his knees and grabbed George’s hands. “God no, that’s not what I meant. You’re just so much kinder and sweeter than me in every way, and now you’ve gone and done the best thing in the world, and how have I repaid you? I’ll get you something better. Every day until infinity, I’ll get you a new gift.”

“Ritchie, I love your gift,” George whispered, finally meeting his gaze. “But I…I don’t…What’re you saying here?”

“Ask me.” Ringo squeezed his hands tight. “I wanna hear you say it. I wanna remember this forever.”

Biting his lip, George held out the ring once more. “Ritchie, will you marry me?”

The tears spilled from Ringo’s eyes as he smiled wider than he ever had before. “YES. GOD, YES.”

The ring clattered to the floor as they threw their arms around each other in a tight embrace. “Thank god,” George mumbled, and Ringo held him tighter.

When they finally let go, George picked up the ring and slid it onto Ringo’s finger. “At least I didn’t have to make a wild guess on your ring size,” he said, sliding his fingers over the other rings on his hand before letting them linger on the shimmering diamond.

Ringo spread his fingers and stared at it, then looked up to stare at George instead. “I love you so much,” he said, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. “But are you sure you’re not disappointed with my gift?”

“Not even a little,” George said warmly. “And honestly, I’m relieved. Before you brought the gingerbread house in, I was afraid you were getting ready to propose, too. All my weeks of planning down the drain.”

“You’ve been planning this for weeks?” Ringo said, letting George spin him around until he was nestled between George’s legs and hugged against his chest.

“Mm-hm. Had a whole speech planned. Then you interrupted.”

“Oh.” Ringo felt his cheeks heat up again. “Maybe you can give me that speech sometime?”

George laughed, and Ringo shook with him. “Absolutely.”

Ringo stayed wrapped in his boyfriend’s—no, _fiancé’s_ arms, not even caring that they were still on the hard kitchen floor. He was too busy staring at the most beautiful ring in the world.

Looked like he’d be changing his lock screen a lot sooner than he’d anticipated.


End file.
